


Learning to Stand

by HeroMaggie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Ableism, Canon-Style Violence, Derogatory Language, Evolving Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Permanent Injury, Slurs, descriptions of injuries, self deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-14 02:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7148237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Down in the Deep Roads, while rescuing a missing Warden, Anders falls victim to a darkspawn attack. Determined to show him that life can move on, Fenris brings him home to recover. Sometime between a fireside chat and the first step, Anders comes to see Fenris as more than just a friend and help, and Fenris shows Anders that living isn't dependent on two solid feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have to give all my thanks to Emotionalmorphine for the amount of work he did to help me write and edit this. This story does feature disability and the start of learning to live with constant pain and a noticeable injury. It does feature ableist language, self-hate, doubts, and actions. I consulted with people who live with permanent disability. They have given the green light on this story, but as with all things in life - experiences are not universal.
> 
> Please, if something touches a nerve in any way, let me know in the comments. Understand that my own experiences with chronic pain and mental disease do not echo everybody's and that I did consult heavily for this story.

“Blighted Deep Roads.” Fenris watched as Anders slid down the cold stone wall to slump on the floor. “I hate them.”

“Are you well?” Fenris whispered to Anders, his gaze dodging from Anders to the rest of the group and back. There was very little to suggest that any of the party was actually doing truly well. The only bright spot was finding the man they had been sent to find.

The man, Nathaniel Howe, was currently talking to Hawke and gesturing at Anders. Fenris watched as Hawke shrugged, her hands fluttering as she talked. Nathaniel shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

Anders tilted his head back against the wall and stared up into the dark gloom. “Nathaniel is arguing that I should return with him.”

That made Fenris frown. “I will not allow that to happen.”

“Yes well, he’ll still return to the Vigil and tell the Commander about me.” Anders hunched forward once again.

“And they may come to take you, and I still won’t let them,” Fenris whispered. They watched as Varric and Isabela joined in the discussion. “Hawke won’t let them take you.”

“Hawke…” Anders didn’t finish his thought. His head turned so that he could stare down the long tunnel they were sitting in, his breath catching in his throat. “Darkspawn,” he whispered.

Nathaniel was staring down the tunnel as well, seemingly ignoring the words being thrown at him. He turned that stare to Anders who nodded, jumped up, and grabbed his staff. “Darkspawn,” Nathaniel said. “A lot of them.”

“Big ones,” Anders added. “Moving fast.”

“Ogre. At least one.” Nathaniel pulled his bow from his shoulder. “They’re coming. Prepare!”

The Wardens that were with Nathaniel grouped together and formed lines across the tunnel. Anders joined Nathaniel at the back. It grew silent. Then Fenris heard it: the scrabble of nails on stone, the chitter of inhuman voices, the thump of something heavy.

The darkspawn burst from the side of the tunnel, paused for a heartbeat, and charged at the Wardens. Anders summoned a lightning storm over the darkspawn while Nathaniel began to pepper them with arrows. Weapons clanged as the Wardens began to bang and yell taunts causing the darkspawn to howl and froth at the mouth. The Wardens at the front screamed “for the Wardens’ as they charged. They met the darkspawn in a loud clash of swords and shields.

Hawke pulled her staff from her back. Fire coalesced in her hand. The fire twisted into a large writhing ball. Hawke gestured outward and the fireball flew at the back of the darkspawn horde. There was another rumble, another howl, and more darkspawn poured from a new fissure in the wall - this one closer to the group. Fenris gripped his sword, activated his brands, and charged.

Time slowed. He heard the twang of Bianca, the whomp of fireballs, his breath heaving, the whistle of his blade; he felt the jarring feeling of meeting bone and gristle, heard the wet squelch as he pulled free to attack again...and again...and again…

Fenris heard rocks shatter. Dust sprayed out in an arc and an ogre charged through the second fissure to the accompanied boom of rocks shearing away and dissolving into pebbles that clattered with pinpoint clarity. The beast swung its head and saw Fenris’ brands. He saw it pick up a boulder and charge him. He heard Anders’ scream his name.

Fenris’ heart raced and he refocused on the swirls of battle. A genlock’s sword swung at him and he blocked it. The boulder took flight. He blocked the sword and swung, gutting the genlock. He tensed his legs, bunching his muscles and felt a jarring shove. His feet left the ground and he slammed into the side of the tunnel, his breath knocked from his body. He leapt up and saw Anders prone, blood pooling around his head, the boulder on his leg, and the ogre looming over him.

Fenris saw red. He screamed and charged, his sword held in front of him like a lance. The ogre roared a challenge and brandished its meaty fists. Fenris saw the downward swing and phased through the ogre’s fist. He materialized next to the beast; the rank smells of rot, blight, sweat, and blood filled his nose, and his breath rasped in his lungs. His sword punched through the thick hide of the ogre, slid along bone and gristle to lodge at the spine. He pulled sideways, his brands flaring a hot white-blue. The sword slid through meat and bone and then out, the hot blood spilling over his feet and the dusty rock of the tunnel. The ogre gave a surprised grunt and toppled.

The group stared at him dumbfounded, mouths agape. He had no time for their shock. Anders lay unmoving, leg still pinned by the boulder.

“Help him!” Fenris yelled, throwing his sword down. “Healing potion. Who has a healing potion?”

Hawke came running forward, a potion in her hand. “We need to move that boulder before we do anything else.”

Fenris growled, his markings an incandescent blue white. He threw himself at the boulder, his shoulder slamming into the rock with a crunch. The boulder rocked and Fenris pushed harder. Nathaniel joined him and then Varric and Isabela. They strained against the boulder, shoulders and hands slipping over the rough rock. Fenris got a hand under the bottom and heaved up. Nathaniel joined him in lifting while Varric and Isabela pushed. With their help, they were able to push the boulder off of Anders. Fenris panted and fell to his knees, reaching out to slide one fingertip over the mess of Anders’ right leg.

It was luck that the boulder missed Anders’ knee; instead, his foot and calf took the brunt. His boot was shredded and stark white bone shards pierced the side of his calf. His foot was mangled. The visible skin was a deep purple, nearly black. Fenris inhaled sharply and then sat down. His hand hovered over Anders’, unsure if he should touch him or not. Tears pricked his eyes and looked away, ashamed of his fear, sick from worry, twisted over how to proceed.

“Broody, Hawke got a potion into him. He’ll be back to driving you insane in no time.” Varric had moved to sit with him, his voice gentle.

“He’s probably okay to move, but he’ll need to be carried.” Hawke was looking at Nathaniel. Before anybody else could say a word, Fenris stood and carefully lifted Anders.

“I will carry him out of here.”

“I didn’t think you would be the one to volunteer.”

Fenris clenched his jaw. “Later. We should see how far we can make it now. He should not be down here when he wakes.”

***

“So, Fenris.” Hawke dropped to the ground next to him. “What’s with the change in attitude?”

Fenris glanced up at her face and raised an eyebrow. He didn’t respond, just dropped his gaze back to Anders after a moment of silent staring. Hawke scrunched her nose and turned to look at Anders. He was pale and unconscious. His leg had been splinted and wrapped from knee to toes, and he lay propped up on Fenris’ pack. She reached out and brushed back Anders’ hair.

“Do not touch him,” Fenris growled. He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Hawke. I…”

“What’s going on here?”

Fenris stared at the bandages around Anders’ leg. He could still hear the crunch of the boulder slamming into him, could still see the blood spread out under his head. Anders’ reddish-blond hair was matted with it, the strands stuck together and dirty. Fenris swallowed down the fear and ignored the tears that threatened to fall again.

“Fenris? You’re scaring me.” Hawke laid her hand on his shoulder. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“It’s not my place to,” Fenris said finally. “I...we...have…”

“All right. Hey, it’s all right.”

“We are friends,” Fenris said finally. “Beyond that… He is injured because of me.”

“I don’t think the darkspawn were singling him out.” Hawke squeezed his shoulder.

“He took a blow meant for me. He saved my life. How do you thank somebody for that? How do you… How do you treat them the same? What if he is permanently injured due to me?”

“Fenris. My sister gave her life for me, for Carver, for mother. Seeing her lying there, dead from an ogre attack…” Hawke covered her mouth and closed her eyes. Fenris watched as she gathered herself back together. “If she was alive, I’d spend the rest of my life showing her that her sacrifice wasn’t in vain. I’d make sure she knew how much I love and need her.”

Fenris frowned at Anders. “Will he wake up?”

“I think we’ll know more when we’re out of this wretched place. You should rest. One of us can watch him.”

“No. I will watch him. Thank you, Hawke.” Fenris hesitated and then touched her hand that was on his shoulder. “I am sorry for Bethany.” She squeezed his shoulder again.

He lay down next to Anders. Hawke stayed for a few more minutes before getting up to leave. When he was alone with Anders’ again, he looked up at the face of the man who had saved his life and wished that he could properly vocalize to his friends how serious he was about Anders. He lay there a moment more and then sat up and dragged his sword to him. He pulled a cloth from one of his pouches and began to wipe off the gore.

“Hey Broody, I got your tent up. Do you think we should put Blondie’s up?” Varric wandered over to where Fenris was sitting. He looked up from his sword, his hand still moving methodically down the blade as he cleaned it.

“He will be with me.”

“I gotta say, I’m surprised. I never figured you’d be the one to lose his cool when Blondie dropped. I always thought you’d dance a jig or something,” Varric said, curiosity writ across his face.

Fenris grunted and kept cleaning his sword. Varric moved to Anders’ other side and slowly sat down. He just stared for a minute, the wide-eyed teasing look vanishing. Instead, Varric’s face looked pinched and sad. “I hate seeing him like this.”

Fenris glanced over at Varric. “I do as well.”

“He should be griping about the Deep Roads with me, or talking about mages. Or even fighting with you.” Varric’s breath hitched. “Look, Broody, I just want to make sure you’re in this for the long haul. Blondie here, he’s had it rough. He’s never said, but I have eyes.”

Fenris put his sword down and turned to stare into Varric’s eyes. “I do not know what you mean, Varric.”

“Uh-huh. Right. Well...” A smile twitched up on his lips. “Hey. He’s gotta get better. How else will I tease him about this?”

“No stories,” Fenris said firmly.

“Too late. It’ll be a doozy.” Varric reached out and squeezed Anders’ hand. “Maybe the story isn’t better with the hero dead,” he murmured.

Fenris watched as Varric stood and headed to his tent. Fenris stood and carefully picked up Anders, taking him to their tent. He tucked him under the blankets, smoothed back his hair, and bent forward. “Wake up, Anders. I miss you.”

Anders didn’t move. His breathing remained steady. Fenris closed his eyes. “I will return. I must get my sword.” It felt strange to speak to Anders when he was unconscious; strange but right.

“Fenris, correct?” Nathaniel Howe stood just outside of the tent. “May I speak with you?”

“Speak?” Fenris moved around the taller human, and walked swiftly to where he had left his sword and pack.

Nathaniel followed him. “How is he?”

“Unconscious. Injured..” Fenris’ hands clenched around the pommel of his sword and he forced himself to relax and sheath his blade before he used it on Nathaniel. “It has not changed.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. There was no need for you all to come. We were fine.”

Fenris held up his hand. “Your sister spoke to Hawke. Hawke takes family seriously.”

“Still. I am sorry.” Nathaniel rocked on the heels of his boots and then blew out a breath. “So you and he are…”

Fenris arched an eyebrow, his eyes steady on Nathaniel.

“Just so you know, he was never very...monogamous...when he was with the Wardens.” Nathaniel grimaced. “Or well, he was very flirty.”

“You were together.”

“We were. For a while at least.” Nathaniel rubbed at his chin and then shrugged. “I wanted more. I wanted commitment.”

Fenris didn’t break eye-contact with Nathaniel. “He is not that man now.”

“I see. He’s lucky to have you as his champion.”

Fenris’ lips twisted into a sneer. “Hawke is his champion, and she will not let him go so easily.”

“And neither will you, I believe. I’ll have to tell the Commander that he’s alive, of course. I won’t lie to her. However, Hawke has told me of his work here. The Commander will most likely see fit to leave him here.”

Fenris bit down on a comment about templars and Justice. Instead he offered Nathaniel a curt nod and strode back to his tent. Pain was gathering around his neck and shoulders, and stretching up and over his head to tighten at the top of his forehead. He slipped through the flap, dropped his pack, and turned to tie the flap closed. Once done, he removed his sword, unbuckled his armor, and sank down next to Anders.

He stayed there till the call came to break camp.

***

“It is a concussion. He should not have been moved.” The Keeper was speaking. Hawke had opted to stop at the Dalish camp to see what kind of healing they could offer. So far, the amount was slim.

“Better to move him than leave him to die,” Fenris snarled.

“I understand that you made the best choice in a bad situation, but he hit his head very hard. He could stay. There is a chance that I could guide him back to you.”

“He will come home with me.” Fenris tried to swallow his anger. “And his leg? His foot?”

“You did well binding it. I am no healer, not like he is. I can tell his leg is on the mend, but his foot…” Her voice petered out and she sighed. “His foot will likely plague him the rest of his life.”

“Will he walk again?”

Marethari laid her hand on his shoulder. “Be there for him. This could make life in that city more difficult.”

Fenris knew what she meant. With Anders hobbled, it would be harder for him to avoid the templars or danger. He wondered what was worse: the knowledge that Anders might never wake up or the that he could end up crippled for the rest of his life.

He felt Marethari squeeze his shoulder. “Do not despair. He has you. I can see how much he means to you.”

Fenris shook his head. He wished he could say the words that others said in such situations: affirmations that yes, he had feelings for this mage. That Anders meant more to him than he had realized. The words, though, stuck in his throat. Instead of speaking, he sat down next to Anders and stared at his wrapped leg.

The last night before they headed back to the Deep Roads, they had sat in front of the fire together and shared a bottle of wine. Anders had looked at Fenris and, for a second, Fenris thought he was going to say something important. The moment had stretched on and then Anders had smiled and taken his hand. No words had been spoken, and Fenris had been left feeling like something important had been missed.

A moment squandered.

“Will he be ok to travel back to Kirkwall?”

“We can make a litter for him. It will take the strain off his neck and back. Talk to him. It will help him find his way home.” Marethari patted his shoulder. “He will return to you if he knows he’s wanted.”

Fenris didn’t watch her leave. Instead, he reached out and carefully stroked Anders’ hand. Again, tears filled his eyes and again, he blinked them back. Instead he took Anders’ hand in a careful hold. “I promise that you will not be alone. I swear it.” He held Anders’ hand until it was time to set up his tent.

***

“Are you sure you don’t need help? I can send Orana over,” Hawke said while hovering around Fenris.

“I can handle one injured mage.” Fenris built up the fire in the fireplace and then turned to frown at his friend.

“Do you have food? You still have corpses. Your ceiling has a hole in it.” Hawke crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot.

Fenris glanced up at the ceiling. “I will speak to Varric about the ceiling and the corpses. I should move to a room on the first floor so Anders can avoid the stairs.”

“Fenris, please let me help you. I can have Orana buy food and clean a room downstairs. You can’t do this alone.”

Fenris sighed, his shoulders drooping. “Alright, Hawke.”

“Tell you what. Bring him to my home for the next couple of nights so that Orana can clean. I promise to leave you both alone.”

“I will stay here, Hawke. We both will.”

Hawke grumbled, but stopped arguing. “I will send her over with food tonight.”

Fenris gave in and nodded. He waited for Hawke to leave before he unsheathed his sword and placed it near the bed. Next went the back sheath and his armor, all carefully laid out on a nearby table. He glanced at Anders, so still on his bed, and hesitated. He needed to bathe, but he didn’t wish to leave his mage.

He settled on filling a bucket and heating water over the fire. He stared at Anders as he wiped himself clean and then hesitated again. He glanced at the dirty water, then at Anders, and headed back into the bathing room to pump fresh water.

He lay blankets down on the floor in front of the fire and placed a couple worn towels on the chair. Gently, he worked open the buckles on Anders’ ridiculous coat. He peeled back the cloth of the coat, folded it, and laid it to the side. He rubbed the thin, worn cloth of Anders tunic before removing it. He also folded it and placed it on the coat. The one good boot was removed and placed on the floor, and then he untied Anders’ pants. With a soft inhale, he worked them down Anders’ hips and over his legs. Anders’ tattered smalls followed. Fenris picked him up, cradled him close, and then laid him on the blankets. Anders was more than slender - skinny and pale with bruises marring his skin. He traced over one of the scars on Anders’ chest and brushed his hand over Anders’ ribs. Fenris felt his heart squeeze tight, a breathless ache in his chest that made him shut his eyes. He could feel his ears pressed flat to his head, feel his throat close up and his lungs seize. For a brief moment, Fenris thought he would die like that - suffocating from fear and worry. Then his breath wooshed from him, and he sagged.

Fenris picked up a cloth and wet it in the warm water. Slowly, he smoothed the cloth over damaged skin, freckles, and chest hair. Fenris could feel his breath catching at odd moments as he cleaned Anders. It made him embarrassed and a little ashamed, to have Anders so vulnerable and think him beautiful - and a flush creeped up Fenris’ neck and filled his ears. He tried to keep his mind carefully blank as he finished washing Anders. A knock on the door disturbed Fenris as he was drying Anders’ hair.

“Come,” Fenris called, wrapping Anders in the blankets to hide his nudity. Orana stepped into the room and let out a sudden sob. Her gaze was focused on Anders.

“Orana. Hawke said you would visit.” Fenris stood. “I thank you for your aid.”

“I brought food for you both. There is a jar in the bag filled with hot broth for him. It will last through tomorrow. There are some meat pies, a loaf of bread, honey and butter, apples, and dried tea for you.”

“That is more than I was expecting.” Fenris stood and went to take the bag from her.

“Mistress Hawke said you could use help?” She handed over the bag and shifted back, keeping space between herself and Fenris.

“Orana?”

She glanced up at him. “Yes?”

“Do you wish to help?” Fenris stood there, fear and shame curling in his stomach. He could clearly tell she was nervous around him, and it bothered him. “You may decline.”

“Ser Anders was injured saving you. He’s a good man. He comes by to check on me. I got sick after I first...after…” Orana paled. “After Papa and Mistress...and Ser Anders healed me. He asked me before he used magic. He didn’t hit me or hurt me. He read me a story so I could sleep.”

Fenris turned to look at Anders. “He is a good man. A good mage.”

“I want to help. Please. I can clean some of the rooms downstairs, do laundry, cook some meals. Mistress Hawke, she has Bodhan and Sandal to help her. Who do you have to help you?” Her gaze met his and he could read the sincerity there. It helped. He shifted on his feet, finding it hard to maintain eye-contact.

“We will need a room with a bathing room attached. I believe there is a guest suite on the first floor.” Fenris forced the words out, gratitude making his voice rough. “If you wish to stay, you could find a room. I can pay you.”

The silence in the room was deafening. Fenris glanced up to see if Orana was still in the room, convinced he had chased her away. She stood silently with tear-sheened eyes. He took a step towards her, worry that he had unintentionally hurt her spurring him into the unfamiliar role of comforter. She held up her hand. “Thank you for letting me help.”

“But your tears,” Fenris said.

“I thought you would turn me away. I will come back in the morning and begin cleaning. I will bring breakfast.”

Fenris nodded and watched as she bobbed a curtsy and left. There was a soft moan from Anders, the noise wiping away all other thoughts. Fenris flew across the room to kneel at his side.

“Anders? Can you hear me?” Fenris cupped Anders’ cheek. “Please. Wake up.”

Anders gave another moan and then settled back into silence. Fenris closed his eyes and swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall.

***

  
Over the next few days, Orana became a bulwark for Fenris. She was the solid foundation he needed to help keep him grounded, the touchstone to his days of worry. She cleaned rooms, helped him move Anders, helped him feed and wash Anders, and took care of what seemed to be a million tiny little details that he would have never thought to handle. There was fresh food, clean linens, and clean clothes. Fresh towels sat in the bathing room. Soap was purchased that smelled herbal and fresh. Clean bandages were kept for Anders’ leg.

They settled into a comfortable routine. Fenris was surly at first - his fear and worry for Anders kept him from getting much rest. Orana respected his space and his grouchiness. She tempted him with meals, kept him from drinking too much, and when the emotions became overwhelming, would sit with Anders while he stalked around the mansion trying to quiet the voices that insisted that he would be left alone, that his mage would never wake, and that he had squandered a gift he hadn’t even realized he had in Anders.

When he would tire, Orana would still be there with Anders. She would sit and hum, patch clothing, or just rock and brush his hair. Her quiet and gentle spirit slowly soothed Fenris. Eventually , he was spending less time pacing and more time simply sitting. Sometimes he would talk about his day, sometimes he would remind Anders of an adventure with Hawke, and sometimes he would just sit and touch Anders’ hand. But he never had to do it alone. Orana sat with him, her presence grounding him as he hoped that Anders would wake.

It was a particularly quiet morning for Fenris. He watched Orana bustle from his first floor room, wondering how he had managed before she came to live there. Anders had been dressed in a clean sleep shirt and a poultice applied to his leg. Fenris was rewrapping his foot and leg with fresh bandages when Anders gave a soft moan. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. He was restless in his sleep and had fits of moaning and whimpering and sometimes twitching. Fenris hoped that meant he was mending and would wake soon.

This moan was accompanied by a stretch, the moan turning into a pained gasp as Anders flexed his foot. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and Fenris inhaled sharply.

“Anders? Can you hear me?”

“Fenris?” Anders’ voice was scratchy. “Throat is so dry.”

“You need water. Wait.” Fenris stood and went to the bedside table to pour a glass of water. He returned with the glass and carefully slid an arm around Anders’ back to lift him so that he could take a few sips.

“Where?”

“We are at home.”

Anders’ brow furrowed and he licked at his dry lips. “What happened?”

“There was an ogre. You threw me out of the way and saved my life,” Fenris said softly. “You have been unconscious for days now.”

“I hurt.” Anders voice was weak.

“You should rest. I will get a sleeping potion and an elfroot potion.” Fenris stood and put the glass on the table.

“Fenris?”

“Yes, Anders?”

“Why am I here and not at my clinic?”

Fenris frowned. “I will get you the potions. You are to rest.” He walked from the room. Elation mixed with worry and fear and tiny shards of pain at Anders’ question. He reminded himself that Anders had just woken up, that they had not talked, and that Anders needed time to heal and come to terms with the changes in his life. Still, patience was hard to handle, and Fenris wanted nothing more than to have Anders whole again and happy. He rubbed a hand over his face and forced himself to fetch the potions. Then he would sit by Anders’ side until he woke again.


	2. Chapter 2

“You are awake.” Fenris stepped into Anders’ bedroom and came to a stop. “Are you in pain?”

Anders was sitting up in the bed and frowning down at his wrapped leg. “My foot…”

“The Dalish Keeper looked at it. She could not heal it. We thought about approaching the Circle, but I feared they would take you. I am sorry,” Fenris said gruffly.

“I’ll be lame the rest of my life. I may as well just turn myself in now. There’s no way I can avoid the Templars with this foot. I’ll be a burden…” Anders had tears in his eyes, his fingers stroking over his foot. “Useless…”

“No Templar will touch you. You are not a burden.” Fenris gently touched Anders’ wrapped leg. “Orana has made lunch. Do you wish to eat here or in the kitchen?”

“What is Orana doing here?” Anders didn’t look up and Fenris sighed. It had only been a couple of days since Anders had woken up. In that time, his emotions had run the gamut from anger to sadness. There had been some cups thrown at the wall. Anders had refused to talk to Fenris for an afternoon. He had broken down in tears and sobbed himself to sleep. Today was the first day he was actually talking, and Fenris was loathe to leave him alone.

“She has been helping me with you. If you wish, after lunch you may bathe and then look after your leg.” Fenris stood. “You have not bathed since you woke up. It might help you feel better.”

Anders’ lips twisted. He peeked up at Fenris. “Do you...care?”

“About your foot or about your bathing habits?”

Anders let out a snort. “Both?”

“I would prefer you take a bath,” Fenris said with a slight smile.

“And my foot?”

“Your foot is still healing. You know this like I do. Whatever happens, I will remain at your side. Do not fear. Now, do you wish to eat here or in the kitchen?”

A small smile had formed on Anders’ lips. He ducked his head before he spoke. “The kitchen.”

Fenris went to a trunk to pull out loose pants before moving to the bed to unwrap Anders from the blankets. He was gentle with the blankets near his leg and foot, peeling the cloth back carefully. Anders lay there unmoving, mouth slightly agape as Fenris pulled the pants on him.

“How often did you do this?”

Fenris glanced up from tying off the pant’s ties. “I have been taking care of you since the Deep Roads. Other than Orana, no one has touched you but me.”

Anders grabbed for his hand, his grip weak. “Fenris. Please. Sit with me?”

Fenris huffed but sat. “What do you require?”

“To know why you’ve done all this. You nurse me, you feed me, you bathe me. You have to see that I’m always going to be a burden.”

“That’s enough, Anders. Is my concern so surprising? I thought you would understand.” Fenris stared at Anders’ face, willing the words to come. “I cannot… What I wish to say… You matter to me.”

“This is more than I had ever thought you would want. More than I had hoped for, to be honest.”

Fenris stared down at their joined hands and anguished over how to express just what he wanted. Anders’ fingers tightened minutely around his, a little spasm that made Fenris look up into his eyes. Anders’ eyes were wide with hope and confusion. It was the hope that had Fenris lifting Anders’ hand and brushing his lips gently over the pale, freckled knuckles. Anders inhaled at the touch of lips.

“May I carry you to the kitchen?” Fenris whispered the question against Anders’ skin.

Anders gave him a shy smile. “Yes.”

Orana glowed. There was no other word to describe how happy she was at seeing Anders in the kitchen. She fussed over him before serving him honeyed tea and her special vegetable and bean soup. Her glowing smile encompassed Fenris, especially when he moved to help Anders. Despite any complaints Anders had, Fenris wanted to help him. He wanted to show Anders just how much he meant to Fenris.

Feeding Anders was the first step. Savory soup, buttered bread, and slices of apple were offered to Anders, who finally relaxed and ate. Orana spoke softly as they enjoyed the meal.

“Rumor is that the Rousseau’s will be purchasing a new summer home in Antiva,” Orana murmured while stirring her tea.

“They are our neighbors to the west, are they not?” Fenris asked. He watched with amusement as Anders’ gaze darted between him and Orana.

“They are. Madame Rousseau is the one who beats her maid.” Orana frowned at that. “Though Messere Rousseau seems generous with the rest of the staff.”

Fenris snorted. Anders slowly leaned forward and snagged another slice of apple. “Do you two gossip frequently? I just didn’t think you the type, Fenris.”

Orana cleared her throat, stood, and began to clear the table. She caught Fenris’ gaze and offered him a gentle smile.

“I did not gossip as Danarius’ guard with the slaves, but I did gather information for Danarius. Influential people do not see slaves or servants. We are ignored, treated as moving furniture. As such, it is easy to glean information simply by walking down a street or standing in a corner. It is good to know the actions of our neighbors. It allows me to keep you safe.”

“Keep me safe?”

“From the Templars. The neighborhood becomes rife with rumors of Templar movements. The nobility seems obsessed with gossip of mage blood in families.” Fenris’ lips twisted into a scowl. “Hawke’s name comes up frequently.”

“A popular subject, yes. Messere Hawke spends much time improving the city,” Orana said.

“As you say, Orana,” Fenris said. He glanced at her and offered one of his shy smiles. “I am hoping Orana will stay with us.”

Orana smiled. “I would enjoy that, I think.”

“Who are you and what happened to the broody elf?” Anders gaped at Fenris.

Fenris offered Anders another slice of apple, murmuring, “I do not brood.”

“That’s highly debatable.” Anders took the apple and bit into it.

“Are you finished?” Fenris didn’t want to allow himself a chance to sink into an argument. The moment Anders nodded, he stood. “Orana, do you require help?”

“I have this, thank you Fenris. Do you need me to draw his bath?”

“I will do it this time, thank you. May I carry you to the wash room?” Anders drummed his hands on the table. “You may say no.”

“No, I mean yes. I mean, that would be fine. Thank you?”

Fenris carefully pulled Anders’ chair back and picked him up. “I will let you know if I do need help.”

“Dinner is roast chicken. There will be cinnamon cookies for dessert. Does that sound acceptable? ”

Fenris smiled a full smile at the question. “Anything is acceptable if it isn’t fish.” The little hum of agreement from Orana had him swallowing a chuckle.

  
***

“You have lost too much weight,” Fenris muttered. “These pants hang from you.”

Anders had no response to that. He was slimmer; his ribs and hip bones visible under his tightly stretched skin. He tried to hunch in on himself and felt Fenris’ hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Do not be.” Fenris turned from the filled tub and helped Anders to stand. Fenris helped turn Anders so that he could use the wall as support. “Lean forward. I will undress you.”

Fenris could see the flush staining Anders’ skin as he removed Anders’ pants and smalls. Kneeling down on the floor, he gently lifted one foot and then the other to pull off the clothing. He had to fight back the urge to place a kiss on the back of each knee. Fenris led Anders to a stool and sat him down so that his leg could be unwrapped. Anders’ good leg was smooth and unblemished. The skin was pale and freckled and covered with a light dusting of blond hair. His right leg was still bruised. The back of his knee held a webbing of discolored veins. The bandages had sloughed off some hair and his skin was unhealthily pale.

“Orana would start the baths. I would undress and bathe you,” Fenris said as he brushed a hand lightly over the bruised skin. “Do you think you can heal your leg?”

Anders closed his eyes, his face settling as he concentrated. After a minute, he shook his head. “The bone is healing wrong. I can fix it but…”

“We will need to re-break your leg,” Fenris finished.

“We’ll need to do it soon before it finishes healing.”

Fenris frowned. “Tomorrow. You will show me what needs to be done, and I will do it.” He stroked Anders’ bruised leg again and then stood and began to undress.

“Fenris? What are you doing?” Anders had his hands up to cover his face. It was endearing: the blush on Anders’ cheeks and the way he pressed his palms against his eyes. Anders had a reputation for being experienced in the bedroom, and Fenris supposed that rumor was true. But his mage was shy with his body. Even more importantly, Anders respected Fenris’ boundaries. It was one of the things Fenris liked the most...loved the most… Fenris held his tunic in his hands and stared at Anders. Just one of the many things he loved about his mage.

Fenris shook off his thoughts and knelt in front of Anders. Slowly, he pulled Anders’ hands away from his face and cupped his cheeks. “What troubles you about this?”

Anders leaned into Fenris’ touch like a cat rubbing against a hand. “I just...it’s unexpected. Not unwelcome, just surprising.”

“Let me take care of you, Anders.” Fenris waited for Anders to nod before standing. He pulled off his leggings and scooped Anders’ up. “I will wash your back and hair.”

Anders clung to Fenris as he was carried to the tub. He stared into Fenris’ eyes as he was lowered into the warm water. Fenris could feel the flush forming in his cheeks and spreading to his ears. Anders’ gaze made him want to squirm. It made him want to kiss his mage and reassure him that yes, he was wanted. Instead, he climbed into the tub and leaned back, gesturing for Anders to lean against his chest. Anders slowly relaxed.

Fenris picked up the soap and washed Anders, keeping his touch light. Anders sighed under the touches, wiggling this way and that as Fenris rubbed him down with soap and then rinsed him. “I much prefer you like this,” Fenris said.

“Like what?” Anders let out a huff as Fenris’ fingers grazed over his ribs.

“Moving. Awake. Laughing when I tickle you.” Fenris leaned forward to press a kiss to Anders’ neck. “I have missed you.”

“I…” Anders blushed, the red staining the back of his neck and shoulders. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

“What about my foot? I’ll be a burden,” Anders said as he twisted around. “You can’t want…”

Fenris wrapped his arms around Anders. “It is a foot. You will limp, yes, but you will still be able to walk.”

“I feel useless,” Anders mumbled.

“What would you tell one of your patients?”

He watched as Anders lifted his leg so that he could look at his foot. “Sturdy footwear, elfroot poultice for when it pains them, massage the ankle at night, and soak it in water that has had been prepared with a tincture I make.”

“And would you tell them they would not walk?”

“I would tell them to let the foot heal, to work up to walking slowly, and that they may need a walking stick,” Anders said, sighing at the end. “And that wrapping it would help keep injuries minimal. But Fenris, they would still lose their job. And I couldn’t go with Hawke…”

“One step at a time, Anders. First, you must heal. Then, we will discover how much damage was done.” Fenris smoothed back Anders’ hair. “I remain at your side.”

“I’ll be a burden,” Anders whispered.

Fenris pressed a kiss to his ear. “One day at a time.”

***

Fenris pressed his face against the cool glass of the bedroom window and tried to forget the sounds of bone grinding against bone and Anders’ grunts of pain. They had re-broken the leg, re-set it, and then Anders had healed the break. Between the pain and the strain of healing, Anders had passed out.

The leg was straight now; the bone was healing properly, and the skin was no longer bruised. Everything looked normal until the top of Anders’ foot. Fenris turned to look at Anders now, frowning at his mangled foot, at the sweat the still dotted his brow, and the pallor of his skin. The sight tore something in his chest.

Suddenly, Fenris couldn’t get enough air. His chest heaved and he bent over and retched helplessly. His hand slid down the pane of glass and he fell to his knees, trying to vomit quietly.

Orana found him there on the floor still shaking and sweating. She didn’t say anything as she helped him up and to the kitchen. Once there, she pressed him back to a chair and poured him tea.

“He will be fine, Fenris.” Her voice was soothing.

“I had to hurt him,” Fenris said to the tea, not trusting himself yet to look up into Orana’s eyes.

“And now he’s healing.”

“It’s not fair. Kaffas, I know it’s not. Nothing is fair. Haven’t we learned that the hard way? To feel this way over a mage. To…” Fenris’ voice broke. “He thinks himself useless now. Less than. How do I help him? Can I help him?”

Orana sighed. “I used to be so afraid of you. Master Danarius’ pet elf. His lyrium wolf.”

“Danarius prided himself on making me an object to fear.”

Orana hummed at that. “Mistress Hadriana, she prefered us to be silent and invisible. To catch her gaze was to invite pain or worse.”

“She was a snake. I’m glad she’s dead.”

“I wasn’t. Not at first. I blamed you for it. Mistress Hawke is a good woman, but life here is so different. She tells me I’m free and pays me, but…”

“She is a mage, and you can’t really trust her,” Fenris finished.

“But Anders asked before casting magic on me. He offered poultices. He listened. He’s gentle and kind. He works so hard. And he needs you to take care of him.” Orana brushed a hand over Fenris’ cheek. “You aren’t as scary as I thought.”

“I can rip a beating heart from a man’s chest.” Fenris raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve seen you feed broth to Anders and beg for him to wake. You’re a good man, Fenris. You’ll find a way to help him.” Orana patted his cheek. “I’ll make meat pies for dinner.”

“He likes cheese pies,” Fenris said shyly.

“Cheese pies then, and berry tartlets for dessert.”

There was a thump, the sound of something tipping over echoing down the hall. Fenris shared a glance with Orana and headed back down the hall to Anders’ bedroom.

“Anders?” Fenris stepped into the room and frowned at the sight of Anders on the floor.

“I just tried to stand. I’m fine, Fenris.” Anders pulled himself up and wobbled.

“You should not be on that foot until we have it wrapped,” Fenris chastised. He moved to help Anders sit and found himself the recipient of several slaps.

“I can do this. I can. Stop hovering. Stop...stop...just…” Ander sank down on the bed and covered his head. “You should have left me down there. You should have just…”

“No.” Fenris sat next to Anders and clenched his hands into fists. “I did exactly what I should have done.” He saw Anders open his mouth and rushed to continue talking. “You are not a burden, Anders.”

“You didn’t sign up for this, Fenris. A crippled possessed mage? That seems a bit far fetched.”

“I have not seen any flicker of Justice since the accident.”

Anders rubbed at his forehead. “He’s there. Unhappy about being kept in bed and that I was hurt.”

“Could he heal your foot?”

Anders snorted. “Justice isn’t a healing type of spirit. No, I’m stuck with it.”

Fenris stood, bent over, and scooped Anders up from the bed. Before Anders could do more than squawk, Fenris turned and sat down with him on his lap. Anders huffed but settled. “You manhandle me all the time now. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

Fenris tightened his arms around Anders. “There is something I need to tell you.”

“You’ve called for the Templars to take me off your hands?”

“Before we left for the Deep Roads you looked as if there was something you wanted to tell me. And...there was something I wanted to tell you.”

Anders tensed. “Alright.”

“This is hard for me. Words are hard. People say things and they...the words...they don’t mean…” Fenris exhaled. “I’ve been trying to show you how much I want you here. How important you are to me.”

Anders looked up at Fenris. “But…”

“There is no ‘but’ in that sentence, Anders. Your foot is unimportant. I would stay by your side for as long as you would have me. For our lives, if possible.” Fenris swallowed after he spoke, fighting to not break eye-contact.

A look of wonder filled Anders’ face. “Truly?”

Fenris smiled. “Truly.”

Anders melted against him. “I can stay?”

“Fool mage. As if I could possibly get rid of you. Orana loves you and so do I.”

***

“Maker, I made it down the stairs,” Anders said breathlessly. “Did you see? Down the stairs.”

“I did, Amatus. You are doing very well.”

Anders let go of the balustrade. He wobbled, and Fenris held out his hand for Anders to catch. Walking slowly, they made their way towards the sitting room. Anders stopped in the doorway to rest, his grip on Fenris tightening. “Will we be moving back upstairs?”

“I like the downstairs rooms.” Fenris rubbed at his pinking ears. “They are near the kitchen and garden. But if you would prefer to move upstairs, we can.”

“No...no I like my room. I would like to garden some, I think.” Anders straightened, and Fenris led him to a chair and helped him sit. “Would you mind if I did?”

“Not at all. It would be...it would make this…” Fenris huffed. “I would like that.” Fenris stepped to the fireplace and stared at Anders solemnly. “We saved your staff. I had a cover made for the blade.” He picked up the staff from where it was leaning near the fireplace and showed it to Anders.

Anders looked at the wood that covered the long blade that usually jutted from the bottom of his staff. The wood was carved and polished and obviously custom made. Fenris handed it to him, and Anders let out a bark of laughter when he got a good look at the blade cover.

It was covered with cats chasing birds. In between each feline were loose feathers. A leather thong wrapped around the top of the cover and two small feathers were tightly fastened to the ends. “I can’t believe this. Did you do this?”

“Hawke and Varric did.” Fenris’ lips twitched in amusement. “I did this.” He moved to the table near the front window and picked up a box, taking it to Anders.

Anders laid his staff aside and opened the box, blinking up at Fenris. “Boots…”

“They are custom made and reinforced.” Fenris shuffled. “I hope you like them.”

“They’re amazing. Can I try them?”

“If you wish to,” Fenris said while watching Anders pull out socks from the box. He rocked on his feet, swallowing down his nerves. His fingers flexed once before he stilled, calling on his patience

“I need to start exercising the leg or I’ll lose more muscle. If I’m careful and take breaks, I should be ok.” Anders glanced up at Fenris. “Will you help me put my boots on?”

“Of course.” Fenris didn’t hesitate to take the socks and kneel down, working the thick soft wool over Anders’ feet. The boots were a heavier weight, but still well fitting. Fenris worked both over the socks, settling the tongue of the boot and lacing them. Once the laces were tight and tied, Fenris stood and stepped back.

Anders picked up his staff and carefully levered himself from the chair. He glanced at Fenris, pinched his lips together, and took his first step. His leg held and except for some wobbling, he stayed on his feet.

***

Fenris watched Anders limp through from the bathing room to the bedroom. He moved slowly, steps sure and careful. The limp was pronounced, but it didn’t impede his progress overly much.

He flushed when he realized he had been caught staring. It was happening more and more, and was to be expected. They lived together now. The close proximity to each other was making it very clear to Fenris that he wanted Anders as a lover: in his bed and wrapped in his arms every night.

They weren’t sharing a bed yet. Anders, his mage was still sleeping in the room next to his. It was a little maddening - a taunt and tease as Anders would spend the evening with Fenris and then head to his room.

Fenris hadn’t even managed a kiss yet. Hugs he could get. Hand holding and even back rubs were common now. But he hadn’t managed to kiss Anders yet. Maddening didn’t quite describe the situation.

“Fenris?” Anders ventured. “Are you alright?”

Fenris shook his head and stood. “I am. And you?”

“I’m fine. Sore, but you had me practicing hard today. I just...you seemed…” Anders brushed back a loose lock of hair. “Focused on me.”

Fenris smiled wryly. “I was admiring you.”

Anders blushed at that. Compliments, sincere compliments, made Anders flustered. Teasing was met with teasing, and sarcasm was met with sass. But an honest compliment made Anders duck his head and blush. Fenris tried to work them into conversations. He liked the honest response he received. “You are moving well. I think we can try to go to your clinic tomorrow.”

Anders perked up at that. “I didn’t want to hope…”

“I know you, Anders. You would not be happy if you could not heal. We can cut through Hawke’s mansion.”

“You’ve already planned everything, haven’t you. Were you even going to ask me if I wanted to go?”

“I was, yes. I thought having it planned out would make it easier to ask you.”

Anders rolled his eyes and slowly moved across the room. Fenris flushed as Anders lowered himself to his lap. Fenris wrapped his arms around Anders. A blush crawled up his face at Anders’ proximity. “It was to be a surprise.”

“Oh...well...” Anders leaned against Fenris’ chest, a smile tilting up his lips.

Fenris placed great weight in patience and strategy. It made him an excellent warrior. However, there was a time for patience and a time for action and Anders being perched on his lap spurred Fenris into action. He cupped Anders’ face and pressed their lips together.

It was an awkward kiss. Fenris couldn’t get a good angle, and Anders was so shocked that he didn’t return the kiss at first. But slowly, gradually, they both relaxed, and the click of teeth settled into the slide of lips. When Fenris’ tongue brushed lightly over Anders’ bottom lip, Anders sighed and opened to him. The kiss deepened, and one of Fenris’ hands slid back into soft blond hair. Anders clutched at Fenris and moaned into the kiss.

When they parted, Fenris exhaled. “I should apologize. I did not ask before I kissed you.”

“That’s alright.” Anders clung to Fenris.

Fenris smoothed his mussed blond strands. “I’ve been wanting to do that since before we left for the Deep Roads. Do you even remember what you were going to tell me? That night before we left?” Fenris wondered, the words more of a murmur.

Anders cleared his throat. “That you mean a lot to me.”

Fenris let the words sink in. They settled like a warm weight in his chest. “Truly?”

Anders smiled. “Truly.”


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s nice to know some things never change,” Anders said as they walked through Darktown.

“We could have gone through Hawke’s mansion. We had a long day at the clinic. There was no need to take the long way home.”

“I’m not ready to see her.” Anders wouldn’t look at Fenris; he just limped through Darktown with his jaw clenched. “I need to know I can do this before I do. I...can’t. I can’t bear the thought of her pity.”

“Pfaugh, as if she would pity you. You were as active as ever today, my mage. Despite your limp, you moved fine.”

The clinic had been busy. Word of Anders’ return had spread through Darktown and by late morning there had been a sizeable crowd. Some had come for healing and some to offer words of comfort to Anders. Fenris had watched as Anders accepted the hugs gracefully. The sick and injured he healed with no complaint. By early evening, Anders was exhausted, and Fenris had closed the clinic.

“You give yourself too little credit.”

“And you give me too much,” Anders said with a grunt.

Their argument was stalled by a woman stepping from a shadowy alcove. Daggers hung loosely in her grip, one serrated and one short and gleaming. She gave them a tight smile. “Look’ee here, boys. A knife-ear and a gimp. Give me y’re coins, lads. Hate to have to cut up such pretty faces for a few baubles.”

Fenris stepped in front of Anders and bared his teeth. “Leave or your life is forfeit.”

“‘Ere that? The knife-ear thinks e’s dangerous.” The woman chortled before sauntering towards them. “Give me y’er valuables or I’ll slit y’er throat from ear to ear.”

Steel rang as Fenris pulled his sword from his back. Before he could charge, a fireball flew at the woman. It slammed into her chest, and she screamed once before falling. Anders limped forward, his staff held tightly in one hand. Lightning sparked along his other.

“He’s a mage!”

“Don’t just stand there, we can still take ‘em!”

“Stella dropped like a sack, I’m outta here!”

Anders didn’t wait for the brigands to come to a consensus. He let fly the lightning. It jolted through the first few bodies and then spread out. Fenris grinned at Anders and charged the disorganized and panicked group. His sword flashed in the low light and people fell. Another lightning charge sizzled through the brigands. More screams, more blood.

Mere minutes passed and Fenris and Anders stood amidst scorched and bloodied bodies. Fenris slid his sword back into his scabbard and turned to Anders. “Well done.”

Anders was staring at the dead bodies. “I think I knew that guy. I patched him up several times.” He looked insulted.

“Anders. Focus.” Fenris gestured at the scorched and bloodied bodies. The front line had obviously been taken down by Fenris, but beyond that ring lay bodies burnt from lightning. Stella’s corpse flickered with dying fire.

Slowly, the reality of the situation dawned on Anders. “I...I did. I didn’t even pay attention to my foot. I just attacked. They called you knife-ear and Justice and I both got riled.”

Fenris couldn’t help the low chuckle. “You are very deadly, my mage.”

Anders ducked his head. “Well...maybe. I still don’t know if I could hike Sundermount or handle the Wounded Coast. There’s just so many variables...so many ways I could hinder Hawke.”

“One step at a time.” Fenris took Anders’ hand and twined their fingers together. “Do you wish to visit the Hanged Man this evening?

“I’m sore, my foot is throbbing, and I have blood on my robe.” Anders rubbed his right thigh. “What do you think?”

“I think you are afraid to see our friends.”

Anders let Fenris lead him towards the lift that would take them up to Lowtown. “It bothers you.”

“It bothers me that you are ashamed.”

“It has been...all of the change...” Anders fumbled.

“Do you wish to visit the Hanged Man?”

“I want to go home and have a hot bath. Change. Eat dinner with you and Orana.” Anders leaned against the railing of the lift.

“I think I can arrange that.” Fenris pressed a hand to Anders’ back. Anders leaned into the touch and let out a soft sigh of pleasure. The lift rumbled upward towards the light, and Fenris couldn’t help but feel like it was a mirror for his feelings. So much of the past weeks had been spent in worry and fear. Now, he felt like the worst was over.

  
***

“Do you wish to see our friends?” Fenris asked the question while soaping Anders’ back.

“Are you still harping on this? What’s with all the pushing?” Anders was leaning forward in the tub, his good leg pulled to his chest. He let out a little purr of happiness when Fenris rubbed between his shoulder blades.

“You have avoided them as you healed.”

Anders twisted around to look at Fenris. He opened his mouth and then sighed, shoulders sagging and mouth closing. He shrugged and turned back around. Fenris allowed him his silence and continued to wash his back.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured. He picked up a bucket and slowly poured water over Anders head and back. He stroked his hand over the skin to remove the last of the soap. “You may stand.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I can bathe myself.” Anders grumbled as he stood. He grumbled louder when Fenris reached for him to help him from the tub. “I can do it.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for pushing.” Fenris cupped Anders’ cheek, his fingers smoothing over the stubble. “You have been doing so well. What is bothering you?”

Anders sighed and limped to the stool holding his towels. He picked one up and wrapped it around his waist before sitting down. “I’m afraid to see our friends. I don’t want them to treat me differently. I don’t want to see their pity.”

Fenris leaned against the tub and thought before he spoke. He wanted to encourage Anders, but not discount his feelings. He huffed, frustration filling him as he tried to find the words Anders needed to hear. “You limp.” He watched Anders’ shoulders drop. “Your foot is lame, and your gait is awkward and slow. Your balance is off. That is all true.”

“See…”

“I am not done.” Fenris stood up and walked to Anders. “You are lame, yes. But, you are not helpless. Nor are you useless. Do you forget the bandits we took on today? You were no hinderance in that fight. Certainly, long days of travel along the coast or to Sundermount cannot happen right now. Your leg is unused to the activity. However, in time, you will grow used to everything. As I had to with my markings.”

“It hurts daily,” Anders whispered.

“As do my markings.”

“How do you bear it?”

Fenris exhaled and stared at the wall. “You learn to push it aside, when necessary. You learn to use it. Your limp will always be there, but your strength will improve. You will learn how to read your body, how to accommodate it when necessary. ”

Anders wrapped his arms around Fenris, resting his head against Fenris’ stomach. “You must think me so weak.”

“You are strong, Anders. You will handle this. And you are not alone.” Fenris stroked a hand over Anders’ wet hair. “Come out with me tonight. See our friends. It will help.”

Anders nodded, pressing his face against Fenris. “Alright.”

***

Anders stared at the stairs that would take them to Varric’s rooms. Fenris watched as he seemed to mentally gather himself for the climb. “You can do this,” Fenris murmured.

Anders nodded and took the first step up. His stumbled on the second step, but steadied himself with the wall. Fenris curled his fingers to press against his palm to keep from helping him. Anders looked back at him, and Fenris nodded. Anders’ back straightened, and he continued his climb. Fenris followed after he was sure Anders was fine.

They took a breather at the top of the stairs. Anders bent his knee and then stretched it back out. He rubbed over the cramping calf muscle and let out a little noise of pained pleasure. Fenris pressed one hand to his lower back and rubbed firmly before wrapping his hand around Anders’ waist.

“I don’t have to walk back down to order a drink, do I?”

“I will get your drink. I would hate to make you climb with a cup.” Fenris squeezed Anders gently. “Cider?”

“Can I have an ale?”

“Of course.” Fenris gave Anders a gentle nudge. “Now, let’s go get a seat.”

Despite it not being a normal card night, Varric’s room was filled with laughter. The familiar deck of cards, worn and soft from frequent handling, was being shuffled by Sebastian. The cards fairly danced as he laughed at some off-color joke told by Isabela. A blush stained his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled as he chortled so hard he almost dropped the deck.

Above his bright laughter was Hawke’s giggle and Varric’s guffaws. Merrill tittered and pressed her face against Aveline, who was chuckling. Isabela stood from the table to swing her arm up in a salute, saw Anders in the doorway, and squealed.

“You’re up!”

Pandemonium broke out. Isabela and Hawke raced to see who could reach him first, tripped over Sebastian, and ended up on the floor. Aveline put her face down to laugh at the two of them while Sebastian looked horrified. His hand had landed on one of Isabela’s now-naked breasts - her tunic had shifted as Hawke tried to use it keep her feet when they both collided. Merrill managed to get around the table and to Anders a hair before Varric and she threw her arms around his waist. He staggered back under her enthusiasm.

“Lethallin! Oh! It has been so long. Let me see you. You look so good. He looks so good, Fenris.” Merrill chattered while clinging to Anders. “We were so worried. Fenris refused to let us visit. He said you needed time.”

“I did. I’m sorry.” Anders flushed.

“Now, Blondie, I think Broody was right. You didn’t need all of us looming over you. Fenris and Orana had it all under control,” Varric said while reaching for Anders’ hand. “Come on. You get the prime seat next to me.”

“Go ahead. I will get us drinks.” Fenris gave Anders a gentle nudge and headed back downstairs. He could feel the smile on his lips - the reaction of their friends was exactly what Anders needed to see and hear. He hoped that some time at the Hanged Man would help calm his anxiety over his foot.

“Red wine and an ale, Corff,” Fenris said to the bartender.

“No cider?”

“He wants an ale.” Fenris shrugged.

“On the house. Glad to see him up. Friends have been morose and drinking less. Him being here will brighten them.” Corff pulled the ale from a small keg behind the bar. “Ferelden. Better than our usual swill. Not by much, mind.”

Fenris smirked at that. “Any news?”

“Templars been poking around Lowtown, but that’s normal. Knight Commander’s gotten it into her head that there’s blood mages in the Blooming Rose. Thought that was a few years ago.” Corff shrugged.

Fenris snorted. “It was a few years ago.”

“Viscount’s son’s been visiting them Qunari again. Never can tell with the toffs.” Corff nodded at the small cask. “Ferelden ale is better than Marcher swill.”

“If you say so.” Corff let out a raspy chuckle. “Thanks Corff.”

“See ya.”

Anders was seated next to Varric when he returned. Isabela was sitting next to him, her hands gesturing widely as she talked. Fenris interrupted her by shoving between her and Anders and putting down the ale. “Back to your other seat,”

“This is where I sit,” she said with a smirk.

“No longer. I sit next to Anders.” He turned and raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest.

“That so? You been holding out on us?”

Fenris didn’t turn to see the look on Anders’ face. He didn’t turn to make eye-contact with Hawke or Varric. “You are sitting next to my mage.”

Anders’ sharp inhale was covered up by Isabela’s delighted laugh. “You admitted it. I mean, I figured. You’ve been keeping him to yourself in that mansion - got it all fixed up and everything, but to admit it?”

“You owe me two sovereigns, Rivaini. I told you he was serious.” Varric’s voice was jovial. “Pay up.”

Isabela waved a hand at Varric before standing. She stopped behind Anders, resting her hands on his shoulders. Fenris watched her bend down and whisper something in Anders’ ear - something that had him blushing a deep red. She laughed and patted his shoulder before moving around the table to sit next to Hawke.

The rest of the group didn’t say a word as Fenris sat down. He watched Anders for a moment, noted the still pink-cheeks, the way his hand fidgeted with his mug, and the sight of his knee bouncing under the table. He scooted his chair closer and pressed a hand to Anders’ leg. “It is Ferelden ale. Corff wishes you well.”

Anders took a sip and sputtered. “Strong and...tastes like dog.”

“Hey!” Hawke protested. “Does not!”

“I think it has dog hairs floating in it. What do you think, Fenris?” Anders gave him a hopeful smile. One that Fenris returned while peering into the mug.

“It does appear rather furry.” Fenris held his hand out, and Anders pushed the mug over. Fenris took a sip, surprised at the sudden burst of malt, hops, and a lingering sweetness. “Mm. Yes. It is quite canine in character.”

Anders burst out laughing and dodged the copper pieces Hawke lobbed and him and Fenris. She chuckled with them, all three of them laughing harder when Aveline tried the ale and proclaimed it the finest dog lord spit she’d ever swallowed.

By the end of the evening, Anders was relaxed and laughing. “Well, judging by how well you just limped back from the privy I’d say you’ll be ready to head back out with me in no time.”

“You’re serious?” Anders gawked. “I thought…”

“That I would what, not want you around? I mean, we may have to add travel time to Sundermount and whatnot but hey, that’s no biggie.” Hawke shrugged.

“But my foot…”

“Do you not want to go out with me anymore? I mean, if it hurts too much I’d understand.”

Fenris watched as Anders ducked his head and then scrubbed the back of his hand over his cheek. Fenris reached out and cupped Anders’ face, turning it so that they were eye-to-eye. “Anders. Are you well?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised.” He gave a watery smile.

“Maker, Anders. Have you been under the impression that I wouldn’t want to have your help anymore? You big idiot.” Hawke stood and rushed around the table so that she could throw her arms around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I just assumed…” Anders’ laugh was damp.

“Yeah well...assumptions are bad. Alright?” Hawke pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“We should head home.” Fenris stood and trailed his fingers over Anders’ cheek.

Anders patted Hawke’s hands. She chuckled and stepped back to hold his chair steady as he stood. “I’ll see you all later?”

“We’ll have to stop by. See what Fenris has done with the place,” Varric said with a grin.

Fenris shook his head. “You mean what Orana has done to the place. We would be lost without her. Are you ready, Amatus?”  
“I am, yes. Night all.”

There was a flurry of hugs and loud well-wishes. Fenris managed to drag Anders away with minimal fuss and sighed in relief as they reached the road outside of the tavern. He glanced over at Anders and noted his better mood. “Did it help?”

Anders entwined their fingers. “I can’t believe you told them about us.”

“Why would I lie?” He slowly led them away from the Hanged Man.

“I just thought...well. I’ve had a lot of assumptions proven wrong tonight.”

“Indeed,” Fenris murmured.

“Amatus?”

“Yes?” Fenris glanced over at Anders. His steps faltered when he realized what Anders had said and how he had answered.

“Did you mean it?” Anders squeezed Fenris’ hand.

“You speak Tevene?”

Anders chuckled. “We learn to read it and speak some in the Circle. I may have developed a love for Tevinter romance novels. So many dashing mages.”

“I am not surprised.”

“Did you? Mean it?”

“I did. Is that a problem?” Fenris held his breath.

“No.” The word had the air whooshing from Fenris’ lungs and his hand tightening around Anders’.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. When they reached the mansion, Fenris unlocked the door and quietly led Anders inside. Anders smiled and leaned against Fenris, one arm going around his neck as he gave a little sigh. Fenris hesitated only briefly before he picked Anders up. Anders wrapped his other arm around Fenris’ neck and relaxed.

Fenris slowed when he reached his bedroom. He tightened his arms around Anders and stepped into the room. He looked at Anders and steeled himself. “Stay? Tonight?”

“I live here,” Anders said.

“In my bed. Stay?”

Anders brushed his fingers over Fenris’ cheek. “Are you sure?”

“I am sure that I want you in my bed. I am sure that I want more than just sleep.” Fenris slowly put Anders down so that he could stand. “If you want, of course.”

“Of course,” Anders murmured. He smiled and reached for the ties on his shirt. He worked them open and shrugged the shirt off. Fenris brushed his hand over the pale skin of Anders’ chest and then leaned in for a gentle kiss.

“Come to bed with me, Anders. Let me show you just how much I...how much I love you.” Fenris fumbled over the words only a little. “Please?”

Anders’ response was to walk to the bed and sit down. “Start by taking off my boots?”

Fenris pulled off his tunic before walking to the bed and kneeling down. He glanced up at Anders as he slowly unlaced each boot and carefully pulled them off. Anders’ socks went next. Fenris turned his attention to Anders’ mangled right foot. He cupped his hands around the foot and rubbed gentle circles from the ball of the foot to the ankle. Anders let out a soft groan and relaxed back on the bed. Fenris smiled, pressed a kiss to the top of Anders’ right foot, and then stood to pull off his leggings and join Anders.

***

Morning sunlight filtered through the bedroom windows. Fenris watched as the glow slowly brightened as the sun fully rose. He was pressed against Anders’ back, his arm thrown over Anders’ waist and their legs tangled. He nuzzled the back of Anders’ neck and grinned when he saw one of the love bites he had left. The bruise was small and easily hidden by Anders’ hair. It pleased him to see it - to know that he had left his mark on his lover.

Anders let out a little sigh at the nuzzling. Fenris couldn’t help but do it again, even though he wanted Anders to get more sleep. Feeling Anders in his arms - safe and warm - made Fenris happy. He finally had Anders right where he wanted him. Right where he should be.

Anders stretched and rolled over. He pressed against Fenris before opening his eyes. They stared at each other, their faces so close that their vision was blurry. Anders smiled - a wide, happy smile that crinkled his eyes.

“Morning.”

Fenris felt warmth blossom in his chest at the look of contentment on Anders’ face. “Morning. I did not mean to wake you.”

“Mm. You didn’t. Though perhaps we can laze in bed for a little bit?”

Fenris pressed a chaste kiss on Anders’ lips. “I suppose. You should probably rest today. Yesterday was busy. How is your foot?”

Anders looked thoughtful. Fenris could feel his foot wiggling. “Sore, though not as bad as I was anticipating.”

“Good.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence broken only by the sounds of breathing and the rustle of covers as they moved and resettled. Fenris stroked fingers over Anders’ chest and followed the various lines and scars that decorated the pale skin. Anders rolled to his back and gave another stretch, the shifting of his muscles noticeable under Fenris’ fingers.

“Fenris?”

“Mm?” Fenris stroked further down, his fingers brushing over the soft mat of hair on Anders’ belly. “What is it?”

“Was that a one time thing?”

Fenris looked up to see Anders biting his lip. “No.”

“So tonight?”

“You will sleep here with me.” Fenris ruffled Anders’ belly hair before returning to brush over his chest.

“And the next night?” Anders squirmed when Fenris found a ticklish spot.

“You will sleep here with me.”

“And next month?”

Fenris huffed. “Here with me, Anders. Your place is right here, next to me.”

Anders grinned. “Your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

Fenris snorted and patted his chest. “You are ridiculous.”

“You love me like that.”

Fenris smiled. “I do.”


	4. Epilogue

“Anders. A letter arrived for you.” Orana walked into the sitting room. Fenris watched Anders stand and carefully walk across the room to Orana. She smiled and placed the letter in his hand. 

“Thank you, Orana.”

“Lunch is a cold nug ham and cheese platter, rolls, and fruit.”

“Cookies?” Anders looked hopeful.

“And cookies,” Orana said. She gave Fenris a smile and then flitted from the room.

“We got lucky that she wanted to stay,” Anders said as he made his way back to the couch.

“Mm. She really likes you.” Fenris put his book to the side and gave Anders his full attention. “Who is it from?”

Anders stiffened. “From the Warden Commander.”

Icy tendrils spread through Fenris. He clenched his hands into fists as he waited for Anders to read the letter. It seemed like an age; Anders read it and then read it again. Finally, when Fenris felt like he was about to come apart from anxiety, Anders looked up at him.

“She said that Nathaniel told her what happened. She said that it sounds like I am doing good here, and she’s sending an official notice to the Gallows telling them that I am here under orders.” Anders shook the letter at Fenris. “She’s declaring me an official envoy from the Wardens to aid with the refugees.”

“Can she do that?” Fenris could feel the unfamiliar feeling of hope fill him.

“She’s the Warden Commander. We don’t answer to any local government. She can say whatever she wants.” Anders rubbed a hand over his face. “She’s saved me again.”

Fenris moved to sit next to Anders. He took the letter from Anders’ hands and placed it on the low table in front of the couch. “Are you alright?”

“Maker. I never thought…” Anders laughed. “I knew I would never be allowed to just flee the Wardens but…this….”

Fenris took Anders’ hand. “Anders.”

“Fenris?”

“I told Nathaniel they could not have you back.”

“She’s just working around you.”

Fenris squeezed Anders’ hand. “Are you alright?”

“I am. I really am.”

“Good. I’m ready for lunch if you are. Orana did say she made cookies.” Fenris stood. He watched with pride as Anders stood as well and turned to walk from the room. The letter was left on the low table. As far as Fenris was concerned, the worst that could happen had. 

“Fenris?” Anders called out.

“I’m coming.” Fenris responded. He walked to where Anders was standing. He smiled, took Anders’ hand, and walked with him to the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on Tumblr as [WarriorMaggie](http://warriormaggie.tumblr.com) in the Pillow Fort. Hop in to say hi!


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